Ode To Granny's Porch!

An Ode To Grandma's Front Porch

oh How I long for those days when I could find refuge on grandma's front porch. That's where we would all gather on early mornings, mid afternoon's or late evenings laughing, chatting, singing, or just in complete silence. After meals, we would usually congregate on the porch just to take in a deep breath from the savory meal that granny would have cooked up super stuffed like pigs to even move a muscle. There were plenty of chairs on the front porch as well as the car porch, and if you couldn't find a chair you copped squat on the steps, or side of the porch. She would cook a meal big enough for anyone who "may" drop by unannounced. Sometimes she would allow us to eat our meals outside, and a favorite treat of mine to eat outside was watermelon. Although afterwards, we would have to slave watering down the porch with bleach and suds to keep the flies away from all the juice that would have run down our faces and our arms. During the summer months when the mosquitos seemed to be gathered as if they were attending a mosquito convention, my grandmother would create what she called a "mosquito" smoke. She would take an old tin pan, and an old pair of jeans and light it on fire. She would wait until the jeans were flaming then put the flame out that would leave this awful smelling smoke. The mosquitos all but disappeared into thin air; I guess they couldn't bear the smell of it either. They stayed away for hours and when those jeans would turn to ash, she would send one of us kids into the house after another pair of outgrown jeans. This porch provided a great view into the coming and goings of those in the community. We could see different ones passing by either walking or driving on any given day and of course we knew them all. We spent the majority of the time waving because as you know people in the South love to wave. This was also an open invitation for other to join us on granny's porch. This was definitely a gathering place for anyone who came over. I remember my uncles all standing under the car porch singing or shooting the breeze talking about different women as they shooed us away telling us this was grown folks business. They would try to sneak a smoke under the porch if they knew that granny was in the back room but the slight sound of her cane would send them dashing onto the back deck. They wouldnt' dare to let granny catch them smoking on her porch. They say it was out of respect. This porch holds all kinds of memories for me, and I miss this porch just as much as I miss my granny. It is just not the same since granny is gone; it was a special porch now it is simply a porch.